A Roman Count, Signor arrived at Beiront a few days beforeHe came all the way from Rome, for the sole object of seeing Balbec. At the age of seventy, and without any companion, the poor old man had need of all his enthusiasm to support him under the fatigues of the journey. He had landed first at Cyprus, where he was almost immediately seized with a fever, that confined him two months. As soon as he was recovered, he took passage for Beirout, and arrived in safety. His conversation was full of energy and fire, when speaking of the ruined temple he was about to visit, which he looked forward to with the same delight and hope as the pilgrim of the desert does to the holy dome of Mecca. He set out in a few days, but we left Beirout too early to know if his journey was prosperous or not, or whether any of the straggling detachments of soldiery had intercepted him. He set My old acquaintance W. had less of the spirit of curiosity, who spent three weeks at Cairo, and never went to see the pyramids. But his enthusiasm and zeal were directed to a different object. out one morning from Beirout in a deluge of rain, contrary to our persuasion, to climb the heights of Lebanon, in order to try to make a good Christian of the Prince of the Druses. The latter, "all things to all men," received him with much civility, listened attentively to his impassioned discourse, and assented with looks of gravity and wisdom to the perfect truth of it. He drank coffee and smoked the chibouque with his guest, and ordered dinner to be prepared for him. W. left the palace with feelings little short of rapture at the success of his visit, and travelled over the rocky paths and defiles of the mountain for a long time, till he lost his way. It was an evening in January, and it quickly became dark, the rain fell in torrents, and the wind blew with extreme violence, when the guide perceived the light of a solitary cottage amidst the acclivities. Fatigued, and drenched to the skin, W. found a friendly reception from the owner, who was a Maronite, and who soon spread before him some coarse fare. Another traveller, who chanced to be a Greek monk, soon after arrived, and the trio assembled with great good will round a fire that burned cheerfully in the middle of the floor. It so happened, that the subject of religion, and the state of the churches in the East was introduced; it was throwing down the gauntlet. The Maronite maintained the superior purity of his own doctrines-the Greek treated him as little better than a schismatic-and W. forgetting in a moment his extreme fatigue and exhaustion, descanted with great earnestness on the unhappy errors in which they were both involved. The storm, that raged furiously without, interrupted them not, and hour fled away after hour, till the dawn of morning, ere they thought of retiring to rest; and he complained on his return, of the obstinacy and difficulty of conviction of his fellow travellers. The snow still rested on the interior summits of Lebanon; around which the air was extremely cold, and the habitations few. "The forests, the cedar trees, the glory of Lebanon," as scripture speaks of them, have, in a great measure, disappeared, to make way for innumerable plantations of vines. No mountain in or around Palestine, retains its ancient beauty so much as Carmel; two or three villages, and some scattered cottages, are found on it; its groves are few, but luxuriant; it is no place for crags and precipices, or "rocks of the wild goats," but its surface is covered with a rich and constant verdure. In one of our visits to it, we had wandered for the whole day, and arrived late and fatigued at a cottage, that promised the rudest fare and lodging. But we were agreeably disappointed when the dirty floor of the naked apartment was covered with a small but handsome carpet and cushions, and a repast, consisting of delicious honey and clouted cream, as used in the west of England, was set before us, with coffee and the pipe, and the whole was seasoned with the kindest welcome. This was a convincing proof, that all was not barren in the land of promise, and that the traveller's step is not repulsed from its inhospitable doors. [The present letter concludes the series of these very interesting articles upon Turkey, Egypt, and Palestine, the author being on the point of publishing them in a volume, together with an additional series containing his journey into Greece.] * In the legendary lore of the East a race of beings who visit grave-yards to feed on the dead-a species of resurrection-man. Ay, see thee through!—would fleshly men The world might profit much— Haply shrunk Famine was thy mother: Such grim and gaunt production, Bishops don't fast so now-but mum !— For beau ideal of thin shapes I fear for love thou 'rt short of weight, In thy own country where men are Wed, and keep warm thy bones. And rear young skeletons to fright Or thy thin yellow legs and arms, In Freischütz thou shalt major be- Its prince of ghostly evils; Farewell! Anatomy, my song Is grown, like thee, most spare and long, Its feet begin to falter. I'll wish thee-what? to keep lean stillFlesh being frailty, 'twould be ill To wish that thou shouldst alter! THE HUNTING ALDERMAN. "Now let us sing long live the king, And when he next doth ride abroad JOHN GILPIN. "WHO has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Grêve," says Prior's song, and it is almost equally impossible for any one to have been in the neighbourhood of Taunton, at least if he have any venatorial blood in his veins, without knowing the worthy Squire Tasborough, the staunchest Nimrod left to us since Colonel Thornton, of sporting celebrity, was unfortunate enough to be in at his own death. "Fifty guineas to five," cried the Squire to a party of hunting companions, who were giving no respite to the magnums of claret at his own table, "fifty guineas to ten, that the Alderman won't turn out with us next Friday." "Done!" cried old Major Cunningham.-" And five hundred guineas to fifty," roared the Squire, "that he won't be in at the death." "Done to that too," replied the Major; "I always take the long odds." It was a bet, and regularly entered in their pocketbooks by the respective parties. I am not at liberty to give any other clue to the Alderman in question, than by stating, that he purchased an estate about two years ago in Somersetshire, which will probably be a sufficient guide to my civic readers, and that as he was hardly ever known to have been on horseback in his life, the invitation to the hunt had been sent to him as a mere frolic, although it had produced the very serious bets I have recorded. Other wagers arose out of these, ut mos est venatoribus, and as considerable interest had been excited by their ridiculous nature, I resolved to be in the field, and witness their termination. The day appointed for the hunt was one of those misty, dewy, drizzling mornings of October which seems to be an anticipation of the succeeding month, and to leave you in doubt whether it will settle into a confirmed rain, or sparkle up into a fresh, buoyant, invigorating day. Euston Common, the place of rendezvous, runs into a thicket of oaks and underwood, sloping down with an easy descent to Thorley Bottom. Through this copse a line winds and emerges into the lower common, where Squire Tasborough with his huntsmen, hounds, and merry men all, the greater part of them in scarlet coats and black velvet caps, were assembled, the former already triumphing over the Major, in the anticipated certainty of winning his wager; "What!" he exclaimed," do you think old square-toes would turn out with a mist falling, and run the risk of damping his drab gaiters? No, no, Major, you're done this time, depend upon it-eased of your ten guineas-I wish it had been a thousand." "Tasborough," said the Major, quietly putting his glass to his eye, "your sight is better than mine, what do you make that bird to be, hovering along the copse ?" "Hang me if I can tell," replied the Squire ; "flies like a wounded crow-can't see for the mist." The object in question was no other than the Alderman's hat tied down with a pocket handkerchief, and popping occasionally above the hedge as he jogged down the lane, at the extremity of which he presented himself mounted on a grey poney, and followed by his servant on a coachhorse, bearing a large umbrella. A general shout, in which the Squire's voice was loudest, burst from the whole field at sight of this grotesque apparition, whose approach was greeted by a loud cry of Yoicks, Tally-ho! and a signal was made to the huntsman to wind his horn, by way of completing the eclat of his reception. But old Chervil, who had no idea of a joke that interferred with serious business, shook his head, exclaiming─" No, not when we are just going to throw into cover; she may start away t'other side for the four ponds, and so get among the rush beds, and keep us dodging in the water all day. I've known them do it a hundred times." By this time the Alderman had come up, mopping his chest, arms, and long cloth gaiters with his handkerchief, and having spread out his umbrella, he exclaimed, "Make it a rule to see every thing once in my life, Mr. Tasborough ;—never went a hunting afore ;-s'pose I shan't go now, for of course you won't go in the rain-no hackney coach to pop into-don't object to the country when the sun shines -but nothing like London in wet weather.” "My good Sir,” replied the Squire, "nothing could be more favourable-a beautiful drizzle, and just enough to make the scent lie-but you're warm."—" Ay, ay," cried Major Cunningham, "he 'll be warmer by the time he's in at the death." 66 No, no, Major," resumed the Squire, speaking so as not to be overheard, "I'm safe enough there, for that pot-bellied pony will be blown in ten minutes, so I shall only lose fifty, and that's more than the old codger's worth, to take him as he sits, umbrella, clothes, pony, gaiters and all." The object of these remarks now formed the centre of a gaping circle, the real knowing ones "twigging him properly," with a quiet sneer or a sly wink to direct one another's eyes to the various beresies of his appointment; while a few farmers assembled in a knot at a little distance, with their ragged ponies touching noses and dosing and nodding at one another, unanimously agreed that for "a gemman and a sportsman, it were all to nothing the rummest turn-out ever they zeed.” In a few minutes a breeze sprang up, the sun burst forth, the mist disappeared, and as fresh sportsmen rose up from the hollow behind the ridge of the common, and stood out in full relief against the blue sky, while their horses came neighing and pawing down the slope, there were numerous bets as to the identity of each individual; for a genuine son of the turf never loses the opportunity of a wager. "Do you think she'll make for the Downs ?" said the Squire, addressing a spare, elderly, half-dried huntsman, with a streaky patch of red upon either cheek, that gave him the appearance of a winter apple. "Lord love you, Sir, how can you dream of her running smack into the wind? No; she'll either run upon a side, or go right down the wind towards Chippendale, or the water-mills. Spread yourselves wide, gentlemen, and don't beat the bushes where the water lies, but keep the dogs higher up, or we shall only have a measly hare that will keep us crossing all day in the puddles and plashes. But, harkye, there's a challenge-there's Lightfoot giving tongue who's never wrong--you had better mount, gentlemen, we shall have her out presently." And scarcely were the words uttered when out jumps a fine hare, and scampers away over Thorley Bottom-the huntsman winds his horn, the whole field gives the view holla! the hounds come up, and the whole pack, as they burst away, set up a loud simultane |